magpieant
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Magpieant was a young man, a photography fan
Who went on a site called TP
He saw an advert for a lovely black fleece
And thought "That would look nice on me"
He clicked the link to check it out
And check that all was sound
Then off he went to the Paypal site
And paid his twenty five pound.
The days did pass and Magpieant did wait
For the parcel to arrive at his door
But after two days, it still wasn't there
Nor after three, even four.
A week went by, and still no fleece
An old coat had to be donned
And as Magpieant went out, (he was freezing cold)
He thought "I hope I have not been conned".
After two weeks had passed, without any fleece
Magpieant felt so sad and went pale.
Was this a fault with the postal system?
Should we blame the Royal Mail ?
Magpieant did complain, he let the site know
"No fleece!" he declared, was the truth.
His moan was met by the admin team
And dealt with by Marcel Booth!
"I'm sorry mate" Marcel did say
"I'll send you out another"
And then maybe Magpieant would have two,
One for himself and his brother!
More days did pass, with still no fleece
Being carried up Magpieant's drive
He was beginiing to think, what a bloomin waste
Of one score pounds and five!
He waited again, checking the post
For a red card through the door
But when nothing came, except the junk mail
He thought "We've been here before".
So again Magpie asked, his good friend Marcel
"Have you my good man, my fleece seen ?"
Marcel replied "Mate, it should have arrived"
"Your ordered black or the green?"
This time Magpie thought he had better check
Where the mystery parcel had been sent
He was keen to trace, where his winter wear
And his twnety five quid had been sent.
Marcel replied the parcels had gone
They were en route to number forty three
Magpieant replied "HELP!, as that is no good"
As that's not where he lives you see.
And so it appears that 'Big fingers Booth'
Is in fact a daft mutton
As when he had entered the Magpie's address
He had in fact pressed the wrong button.
So Magpie left home, and walked down the road
Along to the end of his street
If he wanted his fleece, he had to travel
As he had new neighbours to meet.
He arrived at forty three, and rang the bell
Hoping they'd not put the parcel in the bin
But alas, he would never know
As the occupants, they were not in.
Magpieant trundled home, his head held low
Oh dear, this was such a mess
And all because of daft Marcel
Sending things to the wrong address.
The next morning came, and out again
Magpieant did walk
Thinking to himself, Oh what a mess
This is a bloody joke!
To 43, he pressed the bell
He stood outside and waited
His heart, it was beating so fast
His breath, it was baited.
Indside he heard the sound of steps
Someone was on their way
And Magpie wondered, had the time come?
Would he get his fleece today?
They opened the door, and Magpie explained
His friend Marcel was a fool
The neighbour listened patiently,
Playing it very cool
When Magpieant had finished speaking
The neighbour laughed out loud
The nipped into their living room
And held out two parcels, proud.
"I wondered who they were" he said
"As they're certainly not for me"
"I never use the internet"
"And know not of TP"
Magpieant took the parcels
And thanked his neighbour kindly.
As he walked home he wished Marcel would take more care
And not enter addresses blindly!
But as this story comes to an end,
We know that there's been no harm
At least now as the winter creeps in
Magpieant will be warm!
As for Marcel, well what will be done?
For the fleece, how much does he care?
Well he's driving forty odd miles tomorrow
To come and pick up the spare!
And that's the end of my little poem
To tell you about my new clothes
And to take the p**s out of Marcel
A mistake he has made - and he knows!!!
*******************************************
YIPPEEEE - my fleece has arrived (at last!).
Cheers
Anth
Who went on a site called TP
He saw an advert for a lovely black fleece
And thought "That would look nice on me"
He clicked the link to check it out
And check that all was sound
Then off he went to the Paypal site
And paid his twenty five pound.
The days did pass and Magpieant did wait
For the parcel to arrive at his door
But after two days, it still wasn't there
Nor after three, even four.
A week went by, and still no fleece
An old coat had to be donned
And as Magpieant went out, (he was freezing cold)
He thought "I hope I have not been conned".
After two weeks had passed, without any fleece
Magpieant felt so sad and went pale.
Was this a fault with the postal system?
Should we blame the Royal Mail ?
Magpieant did complain, he let the site know
"No fleece!" he declared, was the truth.
His moan was met by the admin team
And dealt with by Marcel Booth!
"I'm sorry mate" Marcel did say
"I'll send you out another"
And then maybe Magpieant would have two,
One for himself and his brother!
More days did pass, with still no fleece
Being carried up Magpieant's drive
He was beginiing to think, what a bloomin waste
Of one score pounds and five!
He waited again, checking the post
For a red card through the door
But when nothing came, except the junk mail
He thought "We've been here before".
So again Magpie asked, his good friend Marcel
"Have you my good man, my fleece seen ?"
Marcel replied "Mate, it should have arrived"
"Your ordered black or the green?"
This time Magpie thought he had better check
Where the mystery parcel had been sent
He was keen to trace, where his winter wear
And his twnety five quid had been sent.
Marcel replied the parcels had gone
They were en route to number forty three
Magpieant replied "HELP!, as that is no good"
As that's not where he lives you see.
And so it appears that 'Big fingers Booth'
Is in fact a daft mutton
As when he had entered the Magpie's address
He had in fact pressed the wrong button.
So Magpie left home, and walked down the road
Along to the end of his street
If he wanted his fleece, he had to travel
As he had new neighbours to meet.
He arrived at forty three, and rang the bell
Hoping they'd not put the parcel in the bin
But alas, he would never know
As the occupants, they were not in.
Magpieant trundled home, his head held low
Oh dear, this was such a mess
And all because of daft Marcel
Sending things to the wrong address.
The next morning came, and out again
Magpieant did walk
Thinking to himself, Oh what a mess
This is a bloody joke!
To 43, he pressed the bell
He stood outside and waited
His heart, it was beating so fast
His breath, it was baited.
Indside he heard the sound of steps
Someone was on their way
And Magpie wondered, had the time come?
Would he get his fleece today?
They opened the door, and Magpie explained
His friend Marcel was a fool
The neighbour listened patiently,
Playing it very cool
When Magpieant had finished speaking
The neighbour laughed out loud
The nipped into their living room
And held out two parcels, proud.
"I wondered who they were" he said
"As they're certainly not for me"
"I never use the internet"
"And know not of TP"
Magpieant took the parcels
And thanked his neighbour kindly.
As he walked home he wished Marcel would take more care
And not enter addresses blindly!
But as this story comes to an end,
We know that there's been no harm
At least now as the winter creeps in
Magpieant will be warm!
As for Marcel, well what will be done?
For the fleece, how much does he care?
Well he's driving forty odd miles tomorrow
To come and pick up the spare!
And that's the end of my little poem
To tell you about my new clothes
And to take the p**s out of Marcel
A mistake he has made - and he knows!!!
*******************************************
YIPPEEEE - my fleece has arrived (at last!).
Cheers
Anth
), thread of the year AND the potential to have an "under the name tag" thingy - all in one day!
